


Like a hero in a song

by Queenofthebees



Series: 31 Days of Jonsa [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Healing, Married Jonsa, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Canon, Sexual Content, mentions of past J/D, mentions of ramsay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: “What if…what if I can’t please you?” she whispered, closing her eyes immediately against the shame she felt at such an admission. Not for the words themselves but the fact it worries her so deeply in her heart, the fear that she would ruin this one good thing because she wouldn't be able to give him pleasure.“What?” he murmured, his chin shifting against the top of her head as he angled it to look down at her. She keeps her own eyes firmly focused on the window in front of her. “Sansa, what are you talking about?”***She had come to their marriage a broken shell of her self but Jon had made her feel as though she could be whole once more.Day 2 of 31 Days of Jonsa : Scars





	Like a hero in a song

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a fic I thought of after certain fans saying on Tumblr that Sansa wouldn't be able to give Jon pleasure because she was raped.  
> Sure, she wouldn't be interested in sex right away, it would take time for her to be comfortable enough to have sex with Jon. But Jon is pretty much the only character who would understand and not force himself on her but let her go at her own pace.

The fire had died out but Sansa knew that wasn’t truly what had made her feel numb as she jerked awake. She reached up, harshly wiping the tears from her eyes even as she felt another sob rising through her throat.

She jumped as a warm hand grasped her hand, turning to see Jon’s form cast in pale moonlight, frowning in concern. His thumb brushed against her pulse, his other trailing up her arm until it reached her shoulder and gently pushing her back down to rest against his chest.

She nuzzled against him, listening as his heart beat steadily beneath her. Jon squeezed her shoulder, his lips pressing firmly against her hair as she swallowed back her tears.

“Was it…him?” he asked softly.

“No,” she whispered, frowning at the word. For though the nightmare had not involved Ramsay, it all came back to him regardless. “It was about you.”

“Me?” he replied, pausing his movements and giving her a puzzled look.

“And Daenerys.”

He tensed, a harsh breath escaping him. She chanced a look up at his face, watching him frowning up at the ceiling. She dropped her head again, sorry to have made things awkward. And yet, she knows she has been delaying voicing her concerns for their marriage.

Jon had been true to his word and not touched her beyond tender kisses and holding her in bed. He has never pushed for anymore, not even more passionate kisses that she remembered her parents sharing when they were little. And she is grateful that he is letting her set her own pace.

Ramsay had scarred her. Physically, mentally and emotionally. The scars were healing on her skin, the worst were now just pale white lines. They were still visible in certain lights but she had learned to ignore them. Her nightmares of those nights had started to fade ever since Jon had started sharing the chambers and sleeping beside her. Yet, the scars on her heart, the crushing sadness of her innocent childhood dreams of love and marriage being ruined, those scars were as evident as ever.

“What if…” she started, swallowing her nervousness. “What if I can’t have children? He …I was …”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, his hand resuming its reassuring stroking. She knew that if she were to look upon him again now he would be frowning again, his jaw tense as he no doubt thought about pummeling Ramsay into the ground once more.

“We’ll worry about children when we need to,” he replied after a moment.

“But…isn’t that one of the reasons why you and Daenerys parted ways?” she asked tentatively, focusing on the rain that dripped from the window opposite her so she doesn’t have to look at him.

She had heard the rumours of Jon and his aunt. She had never wanted to directly ask him about it, had not wanted to bring it up when he clearly had put an end to it. It mattered not if it was the revelation of his parentage, his own wish to end things or whether it was Daenerys' inability to have children that ended it. All that mattered was that it was over, and Jon would not dishonour her or their marriage, even if it is not a true one yet.

No, it wasn’t his affair with Daenerys that bothered her exactly. At least, not in the way that it should. It was only, like Ramsay’s ghost, it played a fundamental part in feeding her worries.

“No,” he said gruffly before he continued in a gentler tone. “It would have ended regardless.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, wishing she could just drop the subject. But she knew she had to be honest. It was only fair. For if she cannot give him children or…anything else, he needed to know so that he could annul the marriage and pursue happiness with someone else.

“What if…what if I can’t please you?” she whispered, closing her eyes immediately against the shame she felt at such an admission. Not for the words themselves but the fact it worries her so deeply in her heart, the fear that she would ruin this one good thing because she wouldn't be able to give him pleasure.

“What?” he murmured, his chin shifting against the top of her head as he angled it to look down at her. She keeps her own eyes firmly focused on the window in front of her. “Sansa, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what to do when it is with someone _normal_ , someone gentle,” she explained after a moment of feeling his intense gaze. She had wanted to address the issue, it was true, and yet her courage was fast leaving her. “I might not please you like her or your wildling girl.”

Jon sighed softly, his left hand rising to scrub his face in agitation.

“Sansa,” he murmured gently, his hand falling down once more to stroke her hair. “The fact you even trusted me enough to marry me pleases me. The fact you allow me to kiss you pleases me and the fact you trust me to share your bed, knowing I would never hurt you pleases me.”

“But…”

“I am more than happy with the way things are right now. And I will wait until you are ready."

"And if I am never ready?" she asked softly.

"Well, it would seem I would begin my watch again," he murmured, pressing another kiss to her temple.

***

She still had her doubts about what she could really do to please Jon though she never voiced them again. He was so sure that she would heal on her own. Jon insisted that one day, mentally and emotionally, she would truly be able to put Ramsay behind her just as she had promised she would when she had fed him to his own hounds. Sansa didn't have the heart to tell him she really doubted she could be a good wife when it came down to the part of making heirs. She didn't fear Jon at all, he made her feel safe and loved. She knew that she could tell him no and he would retreat immediately with an apologetic kiss to her temple. She knew that he would never force her to do anything, that he would take offence at any who dare ask about why she is still not with child.

As the moons pass though, she started to truly believe those scars on her soul were fading like the ones on her skin.

She grew bolder in initiating their affectionate gestures. She would clasp his hand beneath the table, and after he kissed her goodbye in the morning and made to leave their chambers, she would tug him back towards her for another firm kiss and then another until he had to gently push her away with a smile and insist he got on with his daily routine.

And now, their kisses were becoming more passionate.

She had been kissed by others before but not like this. Joffrey had not been good at all and Petyr had made her skin crawl when he had. Ramsay had taunted her with kisses, being mockingly gentle right before he forced himself inside of her.

But Jon. Jon is different.

He kissed her as though his life depended on it. His lips moving desperately against her own, his tongue caressing hers in gentle strokes, pouring his love into the act. She can feel him hard against her thigh as he held her to him, his hands roaming across her back, in her hair and down her arms as though he can’t get enough but wanted to touch her everywhere all at once. And yet, his desire doesn't scare her.

Jon moaned softly into the kiss before pulling back for air. Even as he moved his mouth away, he can’t quite let her go and he leaned down to press a few consecutive pecks to her lips. She grinned, her hands burying in his hair to keep him close and she felt him smile in response.

“I love you” he murmured, tilting her face gently before pressing his lips to the side of her mouth. She giggled when his beard scraped her skin as he placed kisses across her cheek and nose. And then his words registered, her hands pushing him back slightly to look at him.

“Truly?” she whispered.

“Truly,” he affirmed before returning to kiss her lips.

***

“That’s nice,” she commented as he kissed a path down to the top of her breasts. He hummed, his lips curling into a grin that she feels against her skin.

She squirmed, a contented sigh escaping her as he continued to kiss across the exposed flesh of her breasts.

She had supposed this progression would happen eventually. Yet she is rather surprised by just how easily it had come. Their kisses had involved more desperate touches over the last few weeks, leading to a night when Jon had brushed his hand against her breast while he kissed her. The way he went to move it immediately had told her that he hadn’t meant to do so, hadn’t wanted to push her or assume anything.

And yet, it was exactly that which had made her reach for his hand and guide it up to her breast with a small, shaky nod.

He had only touched her above her night rail that night. He had let him guide his hand, her own hand above his own so she could push him away when she wanted to. She still hadn't been ready for him to see her bare, for anything else to happen. But when he squeezed her breast and brushed a thumb across her covered nipple she had been unable to do anything but arch up and sigh in pleasure. And when he had retreated, giving her a kiss goodnight, she had a slight feeling of disappointment.

She was ready now though. She was still afraid of him seeing the scars but a larger part of her craved his touch and his kisses all over her body. Jon had restored her faith in love and men, he had made her feel comfortable about the physical part of a marriage, he had even made her want it.

"Jon," she whispered, her fingers running through his hair and urging him to lift up from her.

She licked her lips nervously as she sat up, Jon's body shifting back to accommodate her. She kept her eyes on his face as she reached up and slowly pulled the laces at the front her night dress. Jon swallowed, his eyes wide and black as he watched the movement of her fingers. And when she pulled the material apart to reveal her breasts. His lips parted as his eyes flickered back up to her.

"Touch me," she said, reaching for his hand.

She felt her breath catch in her throat as his hand covered her right breast, caressing and squeezing. She met his eyes as he watched her reaction and felt her cheeks flush, her eyes flickering away. Jon paused his movements, reaching up to kiss all over her face.

"We don't have to," he murmured as he kissed her lips. She shook her head slightly.

"I want to," she assured him. "I'm just nervous."

He was silent for a few beats, staring intently at her face.

"I would like to give you pleasure Sansa. Do you trust me?" he asked as she shifted under his gaze. She nodded with a shaky breath. He smiled, his fingers trailing her cheek before he shifted.

He pressed kisses down her collarbone and across the top of her breasts. His gaze flickered up to hers, seeking permission and she nodded again, watching as he brushed his thumb against her nipples. She moaned, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation as he rubbed and pinched them into hardened peaks.

She gasped as she felt his lips close around her right nipple, a rush of pleasure coursing through her and the surprise of it made her open her eyes to watch him. Jon's eyes were closed as he sucked, groaning around her flesh. His eyes opened halfway, watching her face as he flicked his tongue across the bud.

He moved off suddenly, reaching up to press a quick peck to her mouth before he kissed his way back down her chest, his tongue tracing across her skin as he moved down, pulling her night dress down as he went.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he whispered as he hovered above the waistband of her small clothes. She frowned, propping herself up on her elbows to gaze at him in puzzlement. She tensed as his fingers toyed with the laces of her clothes. Jon paused, glancing up at her.

"I will not lie with you tonight," he promised, kissing beneath her belly button in reassurance. "I just want to give you some pleasure. I promise, if you don't like it, I will stop."

She exhaled, blinking up at the ceiling for a moment. She trusted Jon, truly. And he would never hurt her, she knew. And if he said he wasn't going to take her, she believed him. She was nervous and ashamed of her scars but the more rational part of her reminded her that Jon would not mind at all, would never be disgusted with her. And she would have to have him see her eventually.

"I trust you," she murmured, smiling when Jon's broke into a grin.

He watched her face as he pulled the ties of her small clothes, pulling the silk away. She shivered as he stroked his hand up her thigh slowly and she smiled again at the knowledge he was giving her time to change her mind, allowing her to push him away if she should wish it.

She whimpered as his fingers touched her sex, her cheeks flushing as Jon groaned. She glanced at his face, seeing him bite his lip as he moved his fingers along her slit. She frowned, feeling a strange wetness gathering and stranger still, a rush of pleasure running up her spine.

"Jon?" she questioned, unsure of the feelings running through her, her voice hitching at the end as he pressed his fingers against something there that made her gasp and buck against him.

"Is that good?" he asked, his free hand reaching up to stroke her hair from her face as his fingers began circling. She nodded helplessly, whimpering and tossing her head into the furs as he continued to rub in slow, gentle circles. "It will get better."

She blinked, watching him move to lie on his stomach. She cried out in shock as he gently grasped her legs, pushing them apart to reveal herself to him. She shifted in embarrassment as he kissed along the inside of her thighs. He paused, looking up at her once more.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, kissing her skin again. "I love you so much Sansa. Let me give you this."

She had barely nodded when he groaned, his tongue reaching out to slide up her slit. She jerked in surprise at the sensation but it felt nice. And as he repeated the action once, twice, three times more, the pleasure only seemed to grow. Her fingers grasped the furs, her chest heaving as he found the bundle of nerves his fingers had played with before. She arched, eyes fluttering shut as he closed his lips around it and stroked at the flesh.

"Oh, Jon!" she sighed, her hand reaching down to stroke his hair as he started to press his tongue in harder strokes to her flesh. He groaned, the sound causing her skin to colour from her cheeks to her breasts as she realised how much he wanted her, how she affected him so much.

She felt him press a finger to her entrance, teasing it slowly until she nodded and he pushed it in. Her lips parted, a confused frown etching upon her face at the fact it doesn't hurt, not at all. In fact, if anything, it only makes her pleasure more intense. Jon hummed against her as her hips rose to meet his movements and she could feel his smile against her.

And then, she was panting helplessly, her hips jerking erratically as her body trembled. Jon gripped her legs tighter, keeping the quivering limbs parted as they began to clamp around his head. He pressed his mouth harder against her, his finger moving faster until she cried out, her whole body tensing and arching as tight as a bowstring and then she fell back, boneless against the furs.

"What...Jon?" she murmured after a moment, gently pushing his still working mouth away from her as she twitched beneath him. He grinned at her, leaning down to press kisses all the way up to her lips once more.

"Was that alright?" he asked softly. She smiled, smacking his shoulder gently.

"Yes," she replied. But then the buzz was gone and her insecurities returned. Because Jon was here, giving her pleasure she never thought possible, making her comfortable enough to be naked and exposed in front of him. And yet, she had never given him such attentions, was still not sure that she could.

"What is wrong?" he whispered, nuzzling into her neck.

"I'm fine," she lied quickly. "I'm just confused about how good it felt."

He hummed softly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before rolling off of her. He curled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and allowing her to rest her cheek against his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" he questioned, his voice hoarse with being on the edge of sleep.

"You've made me feel so good these past few moons. I never thought I would ever feel such pleasure," she explained, her fingers curling into a fist across his chest. "But I have done nothing for you."

"You have," he assured her, speaking more clearly now as he shifted into a sitting position. She moved with him, her head now resting on his shoulder. He ran his hand up and down her arm as he continued. "Sansa, I said moons ago that your trust in me pleases me more than anything. The fact that you trust me with your body and your heart, that you let me give you the pleasure you deserve. That is all I need to make me happy."

"But don't you want...?"

"I want you," he said honestly. "But I won't force you. I want you to enjoy everything and I will make sure that you do. Your pleasure is mine."

"You don't mean that," she scoffed, trying to stop the happiness spreading across her face at his words.

"I do," he affirmed, reaching across his stomach to take her hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. "I could spend eternity between your legs and die a happy man."

"Jon!" she gasped, smacking his shoulder. He chuckled, sliding back to lie down again and pulling her down with him.

***

She had expected many things to happen when she and Jon finally crossed that last boundary. She had expected her to tense up or go into a panic and throw him off. She had expected for it to hurt, even though Jon has always been careful with her.

She had never expected to be astride Jon, moving her hips down desperately as he moaned beneath her, grasping her hips for dear life.

She didn't even know that it could be done this way. But if she has learned anything in this marriage with Jon it is that he is capable of changing her view of everything in the best way.

"Oh, oh Jon!"

"Sansa," he groaned, his right hand still holding her hip as his left slid around, pushing against the small of her back to guide her movements. "You feel so good. So good darling!"

She moaned, opening her eyes to meet his own dark gaze. He seemed unable to focus on any one thing, his eyes flickering to her bouncing breasts and then down to watch as she took him over and over again. And then, he looked up at her face, his eyes softening as they met her own, She bit her lip, feeling the familiar feeling of pleasure beginning to flutter in her belly.

She reached out, her hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as her body's instincts took over, driving her hips harder against him. He groaned, ducking his head to be able to take a nipple into his mouth, his hand moving across her hip and dipping down to press his fingers to the little bundle of nerves that would throw her into intense, blinding pleasure.

She collapsed over him as she found her release, barely managing a grunt as Jon flipped them over, driving into her in a fast, erratic pace until he grimaced and tensed. She felt his release spill inside her and smiled at the fact that it didn't disgust her or make her feel ashamed. She wanted it and hoped that he had left a babe inside of her,

"Are you alright?" he asked, kissing her shoulder, his hands brushing her hair from her face. 

"Perfect," she replied.

She had come to their marriage a broken shell of her self but Jon had made her feel as though she could be whole once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I'm not doing all 31 days lol.


End file.
